


Ephialtes of Trachis

by Ancient_Dee_Cyphers



Series: Dream SMP Shorts [3]
Category: Dream SMP - Fandom, Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Betrayal, Character Study, Dictator dream, Gen, L'Manberg War of Independence on Dream Team SMP (Video Blogging RPF), Pre-Manberg-Pogtopia War on Dream Team SMP (Video Blogging RPF), Tired Eret (Video Blogging RPF), Traitor Eret (Video Blogging RPF), l'manberg, might continue this, this is the first time i've written in a long time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-23
Updated: 2020-12-23
Packaged: 2021-03-10 16:41:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28250301
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ancient_Dee_Cyphers/pseuds/Ancient_Dee_Cyphers
Summary: Eret never quite felt like he belonged. In the Dream SMP Kingdom, he felt constricted by the iron grip of Dream. However, as a revolutionary soldier of L'Manburg, he could never quite share in the liberating freedom that the founders fought for. He often laments on his crimes to nature and loathes his indifference and constant lukewarm deposition.  Eret doesn't feel as though his actions or his thoughts belong to him and so he does whatever he can to claim a life of his own.OrA look into the inspiration of Eret betraying L'Manberg and becoming king of the SMP.
Relationships: Clay | Dream & Eret (Video Blogging RPF), Eret & Floris | Fundy, Eret & Toby Smith | Tubbo, Eret & TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Eret & Wilbur Soot
Series: Dream SMP Shorts [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2090169
Comments: 2
Kudos: 48





	Ephialtes of Trachis

The ground beneath Eret’s feet yielded and crunched with the dead black of soot. His already blackened leather combat boots staining with a fine powder. The soldier paused to paw the dead ground. He drew in a deep breath and coughed.

Apparently the smoke and ash of the previous battle had yet to clear the air. 

Shielded white eyes gazed over the terrain with a quiet sadness. He continued his walk through the slight haze and took in the sight. This forest once sang with life. The beautiful redwood trees would scrape the sky and shield the rich growth beneath. Squirrels chittered in the branches and birdsong filled the air. 

No birds sang in this wasteland. 

The trees were dead; poisoned with the parasite of fire and the life within was stolen by the smoke. The ferns all but disappeared; reduced to the fine powder coating his boots. Eret looked up and took off his trademark sunglasses, removing the shield he kept between reality and his pure white eyes. He felt like he needed to see this. He needed to feel this.

The shame inside him welled up and threatened to spill over when his eyes, much like twin stars, gazed up upon the night sky shrouded in clouds and hazed with smoke. The soldier grit his teeth and tightened his grip on his glasses so that his knuckles whitened. He did this. He destroyed this. He didn’t get to see the stars because he had ignored the land beneath his own feet. His complacency led to destruction and he refused to let himself cry.

He didn’t deserve that release. He did this.

It wasn’t uncommon for Eret to walk the forest just west to his newborn land, outside the walls he had built. It was a common occurrence for him to let himself sink into the grief he had caused. He questioned his motives, his resolve, his morals. He told himself that this fight was worth it. That Wilbur was right and Dream was wrong. But was it so simple?

If it were, then why did Wilbur, Tommy, Fundy, and Tubbo sleep so soundly while he struggled to just sit still?

Why did they get to rest comfortably within the walls that  _ he _ built while millions of native wildlife lay in a shallow grave just outside? Why are they content with shielding themselves? Why is it only him, Eret, that feels this intense and all-consuming grief?

Why were they okay and he wasn’t?

Eret shook himself as he tore his gaze away from the hazy sky and straightened the lapels of his blue revolutionary coat. This wasn’t the first time that he found himself walking this lonely trail and questioning himself in circles. He sighed and hooked his sunglasses on a gold chain hanging from his pocket to his lapel. He needed to keep his eyes open for a bit longer.

The soldier stepped over a fallen and ashy log while continuing down the blackened dirt path. He took it all in and felt the sheath of his sword rub against a bruise on his leg. That’s fine, he reasoned. He needed to feel the pain.

Eret didn’t know for sure where he came from before his allegiance to Dream. He simply couldn’t remember. Apparently this was a common occurrence for most members of the Dream SMP Kingdom. What laid beyond Dream’s land? No one really knew. How did they come to be? A mystery to all. Only certain members, like Wilbur and Tommy who fondly talked about their shared childhood, could recall any sort of past. Eret wasn’t even sure he had one.

Perhaps their memories were what let them sleep so soundly through the night. Wilbur and Tommy knew they had a father and some other estranged brother they didn’t mention much. Fundy’s appearance was a mystery, but he seemed to share a familial bond with Wilbur. Even Tubbo felt a kind of kinship towards Tommy. One that urged him to abandon his post as an officer of Dream’s land.

While they slept fine, Eret always felt this restless energy. He was never quite content. This wasn’t because he needed anything. By all means, he was a rich man in the eyes of the men who were now his enemies. In the embryonic L’Manburg, he had no such wealth but still felt as empty as the white of his eyes.

He was never happy. Even now, and perhaps especially now, he couldn’t think of a single thing to feel content about. 

He was miserable as an officer of Dream’s rule, but at least then he had a permanent place in the world. He knew where he was and what that stood for. The Dream SMP Kingdom stood for safety against the dangers of the night and a shared rule to live civilly. If Dream was a dictator, who cared so long as they were safe?

Eret remembered his oath for being sworn as an officer and remembered it as the following: “For the safety and assurance of the citizens, I, Eret, shall lay down my life for the cause of protecting the peace and order of the Dream SMP Kingdom under the leisure of Dream.” 

He knew what he stood for. What did L’Manburg stand for?

From what he could tell based on the day he stood upon a hill and stared Wilbur Soot in his wary eyes through the tinted glass of the Camarvan, L’Manburg was meant to represent freedom. Freedom and liberty. Freedom, liberty, and happiness.

All his life, Eret long for freedom. He longed to know who he was and while the Dream SMP Kingdom provided plenty of liberties to protect the identities and livelihood of its citizens, it never provided the freedom to expand. They were safe but stagnant. Alive, but chained. They were fish in a well-kept bowl, but the L’Manbergians longed for the ocean.

Tommy often joked about drugs and women, but what this stemmed from was a youth suppressed by Dream’s thumb. He wanted the freedom to be wild and express his crazy, creative ideas. The young blonde was brimming with life such that he could barely contain it. Eret always admired him for that. He was free in a way that Dream hated. He was free in a way that Eret never was.

Wilbur began his journey as a monopolizing potions dealer, but what he truly wanted was a chance to exert control over himself and others. Eret could see the root of a dictator within him, but with Tommy by his side, he was sure that the young man would keep him in check. Wil was a wild spirit that believed so strongly in his values that he couldn’t fathom someone disagreeing and all those that spoke dissent were merely misunderstood. A musician at heart, he was a composer writing his greatest symphony. He was driven in a way that Eret never was.

Tubbo originally fought against Wilbur and Tommy, but was soon swayed to join them. One might see this as weak or spineless, but Eret always saw this as a great inspiration. He didn’t join because he was forced, he joined because he was loved. Tubbo was wanted and devoutly loved by Tommy. Brothers in a very different way that Tommy and Wilbur were, but loyal to the end. Tubbo didn’t seek the greatest opportunity, instead he sought the greatest source of love. He loved in a way that Dream couldn’t understand. He loved in a way that Eret never could.

Fundy was born a L’Manbergian and he confused Eret quite a bit. Not only because he was a twenty-something year old man supposedly native to a country barely learning to breathe. No, he was an enigma because he knew all of who he was. All of his history. He was present for all of it. While he may detest his father’s overbearing love and while he may ignore most other L’Manburgians, he was real. Fundy had a true start and a true life. No one could question who he was because he knew, in all his spit fire annoyance and anger. He was alive in a way that Eret never could be.

Then there was Eret. The man with two pure white eyes hid behind a shaded wall. The man who never felt free. The man who held no fire in his veins. The man who could feel nothing but a vague fondness for any one being. The man who didn’t have a past. The man who destroyed forests in a cause he only passively believed in. A fight he only joined out of suggestion. The man who killed for a lukewarm allegiance. The man who hid. The man who couldn’t sleep. He hadn’t slept for days.

The darkness was hidden by the tint of his glasses.

Eret sighed and rode up his coat sleeve to reveal a communicator around his wrist. He squinted at the top right to see that it was about 4:13am. He needed to go back to L’Manberg soon otherwise Tubbo might awaken and worry about his absence. Of course his allies knew of his insomnia and they likely wouldn’t be too concerned because nightly treks were actually something Wilbur suggested, but the war was reaching an almost unbearable tension.

Dream was growing bored of this war and it was only a matter of time before he delivered an ultimatum. Eret could feel it in his bones the end was drawing near and he didn’t like where L’Manberg currently stood. Something felt off.

But then again, everything always felt off to Eret, the king of indifference and second-guessing.

Just as Eret was about to pull down his coat sleeve and redon his shades, his communicator flashed briefly signaling a message, but who else could be up at this ungodly hour? Reading the message put forth a rushing surge of adrenaline in his veins.

In private messaging italics it read, “ _ We need to talk. _ ”

The sender? It was a man that Eret had only spoken to briefly. A man he had once sworn allegiance to. A man he now opposed by proxy of his newfound coat of arms. 

It was  _ Dream _ . The dictator he was supposed to be fighting. A self-asserted god that he was meant to oppose. He felt no true hatred for this man, but still knew he should ignore it or inform Wilbur because that’s what a good soldier did.

But with no hatred to fuel any sort of spite, Eret felt curiosity and a nervous excitement fester. He rarely felt anything and although his heart whispered for him to respond, his heart rarely spoke at all.

And so he did. Despite all rational, he did. 

In a swift motion he put back on his sunglasses and watched the ashen world return to it’s muted hue. 

With only slight hesitation, he responded, “ _ When? _ ”

Not a second passed as Dream replied, “ _ Now. _ ”

Another thrill coursed through Eret’s veins and he felt a slight guilt but a stronger curiosity as they established the meeting place to be at the Nether Hub, unarmed and unmanned.

An inexplicable feeling told him that his meeting was meant to happen and who was he to ignore a universe that rarely spoke to him? He felt a sort of spark in his veins and he wanted to nurse it to life. He wanted to feel something. He  _ needed _ to feel something.

With no expectations, Eret set into the ashen and dead forest to a land he once resided in to consult with a man who once oppressed him and a man of whom he currently warred against.

By all means it was a terrible idea, but Eret had never felt so alive.

He felt  _ right _ .

**Author's Note:**

> Wow, okay. I wrote this in a sudden flash of inspiration and I want to write more of these. This was very cathartic because I haven't had the inspiration to write for months! I hope to either continue this (if requested) or write more one shorts about the wars. Maybe even write an entire dramatic retelling of the wars! So much material and I love it. I hope you enjoy <3
> 
> Don't forget to stay safe, drink water, and get plenty of sleep. Merry Christmas and a happy New Year!!


End file.
